This graveyard of dead dreams

I am surrounded

By decaying possibilities

Of what I could have been 

Of where I could have gone

Of who I could have known

Some I now know needed to die

They don't fit who I have become

Some I can barely look at

Even in their rotting states

They hold a glimmer

A sparkle

That is painful to ignore

But alas, they cannot be revived

Life has grown in ways that make them impossible to realize

Sometimes pretty dreams need to die

To make room for beautiful realities

A land of melancholy

A place we all visit

A place we must accept

A place we must reconcile

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